


Ageless

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-09
Updated: 2002-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to "Paradoxical" (and "The Love We're After"). A glimpse into Lex's yummy head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ageless

## Ageless

by cheddarandonion

<http://traitorsgate.diaryland.com>

* * *

[When I was one-and-twenty  
I heard a wise man say,  
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas  
But not your heart away] 

He wouldn't exactly peg his father as a wise man, but there were times when he valued his old man's words. There were also times when he believed love to be a weakness. So he took his father's advice, as he left for Smallville, the backwater country. He wanted, above all, to show to his father what he's capable of, and a one night stint (however destructive) wasn't going to sway him away from his path. Or so he thought. 

Love was a weakness, he learnt that he could not function properly, it led to bitter tears and zombie-fied trance. His mother's death left him a crying mass for a length of time, his need for approval and fatherly-love left him maddened and high-strung. So, he walked into the castle, dark and looming and played Bluebeard. 

[Give pearls away and rubies  
But keep your fancy free."  
But I was one-and-twenty,  
No use to talk to me] 

Resolves by themselves worked no miracles, and wasn't enough to stop him from falling in love. Wasn't enough from him to wonder what it would take to have a friend like Clark Kent, and what he stood losing. He wasn't about to give a rat's ass about life anymore, the world mocking him through white clouds and blue skies. He wasn't. Not until he deemed that the life a simple farmboy breathed back into him. 

It was then that pieces of his life started to take a different direction. Before, he deemed everything to be dispensable, including his life. Clark Kent had just introduced something into his life that made it worth fighting for. 

Love was a weakness, Lionel Luthor pretty much drilled it into him. But he was twenty-one. There was no use talking to him, really. 

[When I was one-and-twenty  
I heard him say again,  
"The heart out of the bosom  
was never given in vain;  
'Tis paid with sighs a-plenty  
And sold for endless rue."  
And I am two-and twenty  
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true] 

Clark taught him to understand the finer points in backwater life, and he taught Clark the irresistable pull of history, art and the beauty of science, as well as what was out there, beyond the dusty borders of Smallville, beyond the depth pupils of meteor mutants. 

His days were a blur of Clark, crap factory and cups of cappuccino. His days were a tug-of-war with his consience and the fight to still keep his heart. So, his heart was still his, even though he wore it on his sleeves for Clark to see. 

Then, he found himself sitting on his desk, staring at the miscellaneous files, folders, and print-outs, the coffee print on one of the papers amused him to no end. It had been months since Clark left, and it had been hell when he'd found out where Clark was. It had been torturous when he saw Clark in that sterile room, listening to the low rumble from the pit of his father's throat. Lionel thought Lex would concede. 

His nights had been plagued with nightmares, and Toby swored up and down to put him on a sedative. His butler (bless his soul) resigned due to stress. Days were even more blurry than they were back in Smallville. There was no Clark to keep him at bay, no Martha's pie nor the easy environment that the Smallville teenage elites had bestowed upon him. They saw him as a cradle-robber. A bastard to the highest order. They spoke of him behind his backs, flinging daggers and insulted him to his face. 

In the past he would have hurt them, each and every one of them. But he learnt that this was a cross for him to bear, a way to show himself if not others, that he intended to do the right thing. For once. 

He learnt that love was not a weakness if properly channeled. He learnt love had sustained him through his crusade, and more. He learnt that through the simple gesture Clark did, that day he left. Clark left his heart on his bed, as he was asleep, and he knew, Clark thought that it was a wrong thing to do. He knew this, as clear as daytime as he beheld the sorrowful orbs of a tired young man lying in the sterile room. 

He heard Lionel's footsteps, he heard Lionel's voice. He heard an opening to Clark, and more importantly he knew his heart was no longer his. 

**-FIN-**

Note:  
1\. "When I was One-and-twenty" (1896) by A. E. Housman. 2\. Companion-piece to "Paradoxical" and "The Love We're After". Though more of the first than the latter. I just can't seem to leave Lex alone. 


End file.
